An Unwanted Houseguest
by Meredith A. Jones
Summary: {Matchstick Men} What happens if Frank moves in with Roy? Roy did tell him the rent was too high...what if he forgot to pay it? (post-movie) PG13 for language.


An Unwanted Houseguest

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Book and movie not mine. Sorry.

A/N: This is post-Matchstick Men. So like when Roy and Frank were partners and stuff. This is my first one, and I just couldn't pass up this idea. My friend lent me the movie and I fell in love with it, so I bought my own...used for 10 bucks. Then, my dad comes home with the book and the soundtrack one night and I'm halfway through the book, at this point not having listened to the soundtrack yet. In fact...(pops it in).

"One, two three..." He moved to his closet.

"One, two, three..." Over to the bedroom door.

"One, two, three."

Roy's phone rang one morning, just as he was about to go out. He paused from buttoning the cuff of his white shirt and his eyes fell upon it. He reached out, curled his fingers around it, and put it to his ear. The entire time he was thinking who it could be. Roy was a con artist. A good one, to say the very least. He was extremely keen to every element around him while he was working a "client." He was always focused on the job, but at the same time focused on his surroundings, usually not giving a thought to what would happen if he was caught. Though really, Roy couldn't think of any way how someone would catch him. Everything he did was clever, sly, and untraceable. But if someday, he made a mistake, and someone did catch him, he most likely wouldn't be prepared; but having the profession that he had, always ready for surprises and able to think on his feet, it was a sure thing that he would think of something to get himself out of going to jail. This is why, when the phone rang, he always hesitated.

"Speak," was his regular response. In a deep voice, one sounding entirely not like him.

"Are we ready for this?"

"Hi, Frank."

"Are you comin' down or what? She leaves and we're sunk. We gotta get her while she's leaving."

"I'll be right down, I just have to finish locking up. You interrupted."

"Gee, I'm sorry I put a wrench in the works, Roy. I'm just a...fun crusher." Roy ignored this last comment, and rolled his eyes.

"I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Mmkay." Frank slammed down the receiver of the pay phone and opened the door to the booth. "Sheez..."

---::---

"One, two, three." Roy locked the door, placed his sunglasses on his nose, and began walking. Where Frank had told Roy to meet him was walking distance from Roy's house. It was close enough for him to walk, and far enough for him to have an attack from being outside too long. This was why he wore the sunglasses. He dug a white cardboard box out of his pocket and a silver lighter, and lit a small white cigarette, which he, out of habit, stuck in his mouth. He walked a couple of blocks and he soon neared his partner, Frank, who was leaning against the telephone booth. He raised his eyebrows.

"Did she leave yet?"

"Nope, not yet," Frank replied, looking into the window of a small convenient store, where a young clerk was standing at her station ringing up the items of a large hairy muscular man. Roy removed the cigarette from his mouth, flicked the ashes off of it, and looked around the parking lot.

"They close at eleven AM for three hours, and reopen at two PM. That's only on Sundays - that's obviously today."

"Right."

"So she'll be out a few minutes after." Roy nodded.

"What time is it now?" He asked, slipping his cigarette back between his lips. Frank checked his watch.

"10:57."

"Well, if it's 10:57, why did you rush me out of my house? I wouldn't have been late; you know I'm never late anyway."

"You know, I wasn't sure, Roy. It's better safe than sorry." The two peered back into the window, waiting for those few long minutes to pass.

"Now, do you remember your lines?" Roy asked.

"Yeah, yeah...uh..." The two had been trying different kinds of con. Kinds that they never had done. Experimenting. Finding different ways to run the games. Frank had this Spa idea...but it never got far with Roy. He was hesitant about it...and he found himself deep in thought when they discussed it...the dark room... "Just put on a disguise, you know," he had said, "Make a little money...touch a few girls."

"I don't know..." Roy had said, "The dark room, the...steam...the smells." Frank had shrugged at this reply. It was only a suggestion.

"You don't remember your lines, do you?"

"No," Frank said sheepishly, "This is a dumb con, though, Roy." Roy sighed. He had been coming up with a few new, dumb cons lately, he admitted it to himself, but not to Frankie.

"If you don't want to do it, we won't do it." He paused. "It's not that dumb, is it? She looks like she'd buy it." The two found themselves looking into the store window again, about 20 feet from it. Almost as if on cue, she pushed the button to open the register drawer, and instead of it stopping nicely, it sprung out and fell onto the floor, bills falling, coins dropping. A small group of kids hooted with laughter in the corner. Roy knew it. She was it. He thought a minute, then spoke.

"Let's build this up," he said, beginning to walk towards the store. Frank followed.

"What are you planning?" Frankie asked. They stopped on the stoop.

"We're together," Roy said. Frank drew his eyebrows together.

"Together...like...two gay guys?"

"Exactly," Roy said. Frank looked in the door's window. He'd to anything for Roy, anything to make money, so he didn't argue.

"Come on, we're looking suspicious." Roy opened the door, listened to the hard sound of the clanging bell on top of it hit the door and ring almost angrily. He stopped beside the woman at her station. She snapped the "Register Closed" sign up near the conveyor belt, and her hands traveled over the money, dropping it into the register again, checking around to make sure her boss wasn't anywhere near. Roy shook his head.

"You alright?" The woman jumped, and a few bills escaped from her hands.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She stood, her khaki pants dusted with the grime on the floor. Roy looked away from them and at her face. He looked at Frank, giving him the good old _just improvise._ look. Frank responded with a look to the left. Good response...subtle. Roy understood it. Knew Frank up and down. There was a slight pause, and the cashier, Marsha, brushed her blue apron off hastily. Roy looked at the counter, where there were a few nuts and bolts. He made the conclusion that the group of boys, who were now standing and watching the scene, had done this.

"They do this?" He said.

"Yeah..." she replied, looking down at the mess of money on the ground. Frankie was looking at it hungrily, wanting badly to just pick it up and leave, but he had to keep it low key. If they got on the record, everything would change...for the absolute worse.

"It's just a little mess. No big deal." Roy looked again at the boys.

"What would you give me if I took 'em out right here...right now?" Frank gave Roy a quizzical look, and covered it up pulling the best gay voice he could. This wasn't the plan, after all. "That's dangerous..._dear_...you could hurt your poor little...body." Roy drew his own eyebrows together, looking at Frank, uncomfortable. Thinking the gay idea wasn't so great after all.

"I'm fine _dear_," Roy grumbled, "You don't have to be so protective all the time." Marsha smiled a bit. This was entertaining.

"I don't know...They've been doing things like this a lot lately..." They had her hooked. "What do you have your mind on?" Like a big fat fish. Roy shrugged, getting that tingling feeling on the back of his neck, getting ready.

"Like...money?"

"Whatever," Roy said, though his mind was shaking it's head up and down fast. Marsha saw the boys out of the corner of her eye, and looked at Roy. She spoke in almost a whisper.

"You do this for me, I'll give you all the money in this register." Roy smiled.

A/N: Reviews are welcome!! :-)


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